


COVID-19

by VegebulMelodies



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, COVID-19, Eventual Smut, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23141791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VegebulMelodies/pseuds/VegebulMelodies
Summary: This was a prompt from @VegebulPromptsBulma and Vegeta get stuck in a shared-hotel room during a mandatory quarantine for the virus. Slow burn, smut incoming!
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 29
Kudos: 152





	1. Ridiculous

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Let's see how this goes! Be sure to give me your feedback on it in the comments, it really does help.

Bulma's fingers tapped away, sending out reports as quickly as she could, while the office was in a panic. The virus everyone had been talking about, the one that was like the flu, was spreading to other continents across the globe. Not that Capsule Corp didn't help with the panic. 

First, it was emails that came three times a day from her father. She knew that HR just wanted everyone to be reassured that they were going to take care off their employees, but damn, it was annoying. 

Then, to make matters worse, on of their main intranet hubs for accessing programs and communicating with their various clients had an obnoxiously large yellow bar across the top. "Learn More about COVID-19". All it did was address that an office of theirs had been shut down and allowed telecommuting for employees. Whoever was in charge of creating the damn memo should be fired, she thought bitterly. Allowing telecommuting for employees and up to 14-days for paid sick leave for those who test positive aren't going to help. 

She eyed the others around her, all chatting or sitting hunched in their various cubicles with headphones in. A deep clean was supposed to be done this weekend on their spaces, so the majority of workers had cleared all personal belongings - photos of loved ones and personalized keyboards - from their desks. Half-hearted signs for cleaning staff to avoid using certain chemicals and cleaners due to allergies were hung on a few. The hand sanitizer was being rationed, Clorox wipes were dwindling, and certain folks were getting ridiculously snippy at those who wouldn't stop spraying Lysol. Maintainance lowered the general temperature of the office, causing some to put their jackets on. Gloved fingers typed away clunkily at the keyboards.

And Bulma just stared, letting out a frustrated sigh.   
_This was getting beyond ridiculous..._

Vegeta gave a huff of aggravation as he made his way into the store. He'd heard that North City was meant to get a few inches this morning - more like, 10 - but the freezing rain on the way to work didn't help. Since then, the rain had turned into a blizzard, making driving even during the daylight hours all that more difficult. At least his car alarm didn't go off again, as it had for the last two days. _Fucking, wind._

Now he had to deal with the crazy, general population. Their worthless politicians, the ones who were supposed to be taking care of them and advocating for their lives, did nothing but sit complacently as the virus crept silently through the country. Now cases were springing up. Cities were declaring states of emergency. And, like Vegeta now has to deal with, grocery stores were being rushed.

He left his briefcase in the car, only grabbing his card and keys. The less he had to carry, the better.

_I'm only getting some garlic bread and garlic butter. That's it. They should have that._

At first glance, the supply didn't look that bad. It was a touch crowded, but at least there was still produce. With a frown and stern shoulders set, he hurried his way towards the bread aisle.

_Wait, where's the fucking bread?_

The shelf was almost-completely bare. What usually held hundreds of plastic-packaged loaves, pre-cut for your eating pleasure, had nothing but pricing signs. Well, not nothing. There were a few packages of buns and...rye? He shuddered with disgust. No wonder that was left. He did his best to ignore the mother and two kids that passed by, her frantic and disheveled face worriedly searching the bare shelves, as he went towards baked goods. Maybe there was some garlic bread there.

_Nothing but French bread...fuck..._   
_Don't they keep the garlic spread here, too? Where the hell is it?_

He scoffed. His hand gripped a stick of French bread as he pounded his way around busied groups of people. 

"Excuse me," he gruffed at a worker behind the deli counter. "Where's your garlic butter?"

Their face was exhausted, blank. "I don't know. You can try dairy, maybe?"

Vegeta scowled before uttering his thanks and turning around.   
_A fucking goose chase just to make some damn buttered noodles and garlic bread. Fuck._

All of the other aisles seemed filled with the right amount of food, surprisingly. Only the green-labeled milk remained in the fridges. Good, he thought to himself. That's the only kind he liked anyway. 

_Wait..._   
_Who the hell takes all of the BUTTER?! Is there a shortage of cows, or something?_

Vegeta grumbled and pulled out his phone, dialing quickly.

"Hello?" a disgruntled Nappa answered, his tone sleepy.

"There's no butter."

Clarity came back to the bald man as Vegeta's words sunk in. "Really? The crazies took all the butter? Who does that?"

"Right?" he grumbled, looking though the random sticks of margarine that did remain. Wait... "Hang on, there's some garlic-parmesan-butter here? Natural Select. Would that work?"

"Sure, sounds good. I can make it work."

"On my way, then." He disconnected the call and made his way towards check-out. 

The self-checkout lines were filled with middle-class folks with carts filled to the brim. Plastic six-packs of Mountain Dew hanging on the sides of the carts of single patrons. Cashiers rushing to open more lanes. A father fighting another for two boxes of diapers, throwing punches as security attempted to break them up. No god-damn plastic bags in the turnstiles; the store was down to brown paper only.

Vegeta just looked away, paid for his two items, and trekked back to his car. The cold air hit hard. He turned his back to the blinding snowy wind so he could breathe. A woman was crossing towards her car, three-quarters of the way there when an SUV burned through the parking lot. They blew their horn hard, almost hitting her cart, as they came to a slick stop. He turned away, trying to not fall from the wet ground.

Almost to his truck. An older man climbed out of the van next to him, carefully. Brake lights were still on. "Hey," he called out. "You left your lights on."

The man smiled back through a thick scarf. "They'll turn off by themselves, but thank you."

Vegeta grunted in response, unlocking the door and climbing up into the cab. 

_Finally_.

As he carefully drove his way back home, avoiding random rushing cars that blew through the parking lot, he sighed. His fingers were chilled through his leather gloves.  
 _This is getting fucking ridiculous..._


	2. Nurse’s Office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It’s been a minute on this one! I plan to have this have a chapter pop up at least every three weeks until it’s done.
> 
> DBZ and the music inspiring each chapter do not belong to me.
> 
> Artist: Melanie Martinez

Every morning, Vegeta got up about 5 am and started his routine:

Work-out.

Shower. 

Breakfast.

30-minute commute. 

Early work at the office before everyone comes in.

Only, as the days passes and panic spread throughout the nation, there were less and less cars on the street. 30-minutes of driving soon took 20, then 15, then 10. And that was going the speed limit. 

Gradually, his office began to empty as employees were sent home to telecommute. Well, at least those that could. His team, Majin, couldn't do that; too many potential violations to work from home. Which left Mr. Prince as the only one in their three-person apartment not having the option of paid-leave or unemployment. 

Yet, one by one his tiny team of fourteen began not to show up. Specialists were dropping off like flies. The word has spread: the country was on lockdown. Don't go to your homes if you're out; you're at risk for contamination. Seek out your nearest shelter. And mandatory testing for anyone having to commute as an essential worker. 

Vegeta huffed, arms crossed in irritation as he waited outside of HR. All he needed was to grab his equipment and go home. A new desk was coming in on Thursday, so he’d only have to use their rickety card table for a few days. 

If only this ridiculous queue of janitors, cooks, and leftover essentials would hurry the hell up. 

“Ah, Mr. Prince. Your turn.” The skinny bronze-skinned woman with a sour look on what would be an attractive face gestured for Vegeta to step forward. He took a disposable thermometer, held it under this tongue, and listened to her rambling questions. The timer one her phone ticked down all the whole. Each question was answered by a curt shake of his head. 

“Have you been outside of the country within the last thirty days?”

“Have you experienced any coughing, sneezing, or weezing over the last seven days?”

“Have you come into contact with anyone who’s being tested positive for the virus within the last fourteen days?”

“Do you suffer from seasonal allergies?”

Once the timer sounded, he was allowed to remove the thermometer from his mouth. 

“Finally, I-“ His voice cut off. 

Eyes widened. 

The woman gasped. 

He had a temperature of one-hundred and two. 

“What the hell do you mean I have it?!” Bulma screeched, panic racing through her veins. Doctors whizzed past the glass sliding doors of her designated room in the ER. Staff were obviously overwhelmed, dressed in hazmat levels of protections with purple bags under every eye. 

The blonde nurse in front of her shook her head tiredly, doing her best to be patient. “No, ma’am. You might have it. You show mild symptoms of the virus that intertwine with that of the common cold.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “Well. That’s helpful.” Bulma looked around the room as her mind ran through the possibilities. 

Her thumb ran over the broken nail on her ring finger, absentmindedly toying with the ridges. 

Those pearly teeth, a typical picture of a clean bill of health, nibbled and bit off the skin of her bottom lip. 

“What now?”

The nurse handed over a series of three or four packets, each stapled but overwhelming still. “Since your case is so mild and does not require hospitalization to treat, the doctor recommends you stay at the address listed here for the next fourteen days. You’ll be housed with others who have mild symptoms and require medical monitoring to prevent the spread.”

Those blue eyes widened. “You’re quarantining me? Why can’t I just do that at home?”

“We need to make sure you’re completely provided for and have no need to leave the premises during this period. At home, you’d be required to have contact within six-feet at the front door and at the store. If you stay here, then everything will be provided for you.”

He pulled up to the parking garage of the Huatt and set his truck into park. Vegeta had everything ready: toiletries, clothes, snacks... 

The quarantine zone they’d placed him in was a renovated hotel. Walking through the sliding doors, the only detail that ruined the vacation vibe he was trying to convince himself of was the staff in hazmat suits. 

A gloved pair of hands checked him into the system and handed him the room key. 

Vegeta frowned; this was going to be a shitty few weeks. 

Hardly a soul besides Vegeta and the staff roamed the hotel. It was solitary ride up to the hotel room - room thirteen-hundred and thirty four at the top of the building - with an eerily empty hallway when the doors opened. Vegeta recalled Nappa reading a comic about monsters murdering people in a hotel like this. 

It felt more preferable than an unseen virus, oddly enough. 

Bulma curled up on the couch of her room, her hair sticking out of the messy bun twisted on her head, and watched ‘Tucker and Dale vs. Evil’. Again. Usually the horror spoof movie could make her smile, but not today it seemed. 

Her suite wasn’t as much of a prison cell as it felt; spacious, king-sized bed, kitchenette. The bathroom was well-stocked, at least. And the mini-bar was full of snacks. Plus, they let her bring in some books to mess around with until the quarantine was over. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, she thought to herself as the movie droned on. 

_Click._

_Creak._

_Slam_. 

Her eyebrows raised as she turned her attention to a pair of the many doors in the room. The double oak doors connected to the next suite, which she assumed to have a new resident. 

She heard as the occupant stepped gently through the room, flicking lights on-and-off, and moving things around. 

Maybe she’d meet the newcomer, Bulma thought to herself. 

After all, what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank you to my readers, followers, and Patreon Blues and Princes:
> 
> Cande Briefs, GreyMochila, Moon, Mrs. Yuuwaku, and Rasilina
> 
> I love you all ❤️
> 
> Be sure to follow me on Twitter @MelodiesVegebul for updates, behind the scenes stuff, and mini-smuts.


	3. Adjusting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: DBZ and the music inspiring each chapter do not belong to me. Please support to official releases of these products.
> 
> Enjoy some quarantine budding romance! Stay safe everyone <3
> 
> Song and Artist: Don't Stand So Close to Me by Sting and the Police

Vegeta sighed, running an irritated hand through his hand. The room they placed him in was decent enough, clean at least. He'd carried the last of his belongings up - two boxes of computer monitors and a thin client - for work. It was idiotic, to him, that some companies just let those under quarantine rest while he gave the 'option' of 'working under quarantine'. Not only did he have to live in an isolated area for the next few weeks but he had to work too?

_Essential worker, my ass..._

The shower bag placed on the bathroom counter.

Two convenience store bags of basic groceries.

He stood in the middle of the room, at a loss; what the hell was he to do now?

_Knock knock..._

"Hello?"

Surprised, Vegeta looked towards the source of the sound: the double doors next to the balcony. He walked over cautiously, listening. It shouldn't have surprised him that there were other people in the building like him. Those who had been placed here as a precautionary method for the public. But, the virus was airborne, right? He looked at the door frame. It looked sealed shut, especially with the rubber padding across the bottom of the threshold. 

"I can hear you're there," the voice continued. "I could hear you coming in." It was a woman, a voice not too deep and not too shrill. " I just wanted to say hi...and that I hope you're not sick either."

His brows furrowed. "Are you going to like this all of the time?" he asked pointedly.

A huff from the other side of the door. "Well, excuse me for being friendly. Rude ass," she mumbled. A few footsteps were heard as she moved away from the door. 

Vegeta shook his head and set to work with finding a surface for the stupid computer to be setup. This was going to be a long four weeks.

_Buzz..._

_Buzz..._

Bulma groaned, pulling the pillow over her face. 

_Buzz..._

_Buzz..._

She sat up, hair standing on end, sleep caked in the corners of her eyes. 

_Who the hell has an alarm clock on?_

_Buzz..._

_Bu-_

The sound cut out. She turned her head towards the double doors. Her neighbor - who was a whole lot ruder than she expected - apparently set the alarm. Frustrated and now very much awake against her will, Bulma stormed over to the door. 

She pounded on the door angrily before putting her fists to her hips, glaring at the grains of wood in front of her. "Hey jackass," she yelled. "Next time, answer your clock before it wakes up the whole complex!"

There was a groan before something thudded against the door. Then silence. 

Her mouth gaped. Did he throw something at the door? A pillow, maybe? Bulma took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. There went her plan of sleeping in. After a moment, she made her way to the kitchenette and the shiny, black electric kettle there. Maybe some tea would help her wake up...

His hand banged the mouse irately against the black tabletop, irritation and exhaustion washing over him completely. 

Those black eyes flicked to the clock; 6:38. He'd been awake for three hours, watching this shitty system want to shit itself.

Vegeta sighed and looked for the help desk number on the many pieces of paper he'd thumb tacked to the wall. All of these used to decorate the walls of his cubicle in an orderly manner, making it easy to load new members into the system and look up source codes. Now they were haphazardly pinned next to his smallest monitor, still serving their function but in a much more irritating way. After he dialed the number and letting the spotty classical play in the background, Vegeta hard reset the thin client again and leaned back in the chair.

Outside of the balcony window next to him, the sun was just beginning to rise over the westward mountains. Someone somewhere in another time he couldn't quite remember at said that the mountains when it snowed, looked like powdered sugar was poured on top of them. The peaks were dark, right now, but the sky was strewn in streaks of sherbet. The breeze from the cracked door blew gently in, rustling the corners of the pages gently. 

At least the view was nice.

The sound of his phone cut out. 

Silence came from the other line.

"Hello?" he asked.

No answer.

The line disconnected.

With a huff of irritation, Vegeta redialed.

_Stupid fucking long distance calls..._

There was a sliding thump through the wall to his left. A pair of ivory hands holding a cup of something steaming appeared over the edge of the balcony. 

His brow furrowed.

He leaned his head a little more to the right.

The woman had thrown her bright blue hair - odd color - upon her head with a clip. The edges of a black shawl decorated in yellow and pink roses could be seen on her shoulders. She was looking towards the mountains, away from his window. 

_Click._

"Thank you for calling customer care, what is your issue?" a voice flickered on the other line with a thick accent.

Vegeta looked back down at the device. The computer flickered back to life. "Yes, I'm a vendor working from home in the Marange environment and I'm having issues with latency."

The balcony door behind her made a noise, starting Bulma from her thoughts. A man walked through, a grim look on his face. She immediately noticed his hair stood on end in thick, black locks that matched his eyes. Square jaw, broad shoulders, her height. 

He looked her over for a moment. "Vegeta," he spoke at last in a deep voice.

She gave a slight smile but it disappeared quickly; just because her neighbor was cute didn't make him any less of an ass. "Bulma," she answered.

The man gave a curt nod before his eyes flicked over her body then back up to her face. "I'm on my break. I made food. Do you want any?"

Surprise washed over her features before Bulma cleared her throat, getting herself together. "Sure. Need anything to drink? I've got tea, and it's a little breezy out."

"Only black, if you have it." With that, he disappeared back inside. 

Bulma smiled to herself as she took another sip of tea. 

Her feet carried her back into boil more water.

Below then, sirens rang as workers rushed down the empty street. 

A piece of paper fluttered along the pavement.

And the sizzling of sausages in a mini-grill could be heard from the man's room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank you to my readers, followers, and Patreon Blues and Princes:
> 
> Candela Ficarrotta, GreyMochila, Bee, Mrs. Yuuwaku, Rasilina, AutumnToxicity, and Loreal Davis
> 
> I love you all ❤️
> 
> Be sure to follow me on Twitter @MelodiesVegebul for updates, behind the scenes stuff, and mini-smuts.


	4. Hot Stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It’s been WAY too long, and I apologize for that. No excuses (mostly because there’s too many but you guys don’t deserve that). I apologize for the shortness in length; I’ll be busting out at least one more of these this week and just honestly want this prompt done so we can get Crave and the other fics finished too. 
> 
> DBZ and the music inspiring each chapter do not belong to me. Please support to official releases of these products.
> 
> Enjoy ❤️
> 
> Artist: Donna Summers

Her temporary neighbor was a little...rough around the edges. And difficult to pin down. One moment he's offering a plate of food of pretty decently cooked bacon and eggs yet the next he refuses to make eye contact. Those shoulders seemed to be set in a permanently defensive stance, toned arms crossing across his chest as soon as he gave the plate to her. After, obviously, avoiding any contact with her ungloved fingers.

"Thank you," she said softly with a warm smile, trying to put him at ease. All she received in return, though, was a huff as he sat at the iron table on his own balcony. The hot pink mug she'd given him shook slightly as his fork began shoveling food - a large amount, compared to her plate - into his mouth. Bulma coughed, taking a sip of her morning brew slowly while she waited for him to finish chewing. "So. Do you workout, or something? What's with all of the protein?"

A half-hearted sound, maybe a chuckle, escaped his throat as he swallowed. For eating like a fiend, at least he wasn't messy about it. "I just happen to have a healthy appetite." She thought she spotted a quick smirk on his lips before it quickly disappeared behind another mouthful of eggs.

She smiled to herself. Sitting at her own table, the two ate in quiet conversation. Mouthfuls were swallowed as small quips at the other person's behaviors, at least what was learned so far from the other, were commented on. It didn't feel like fighting or interrogation for Bulma; it was a banter that usually she shared with her closest friends. It was slightly odd to find a dynamic so similar with a person in quarantine.

_Speaking of which..._

"Are you actually sick?" she asked bluntly, looking him over. Despite the obvious attractiveness of his form, he didn't appear to have any symptoms.

Now, it was his turn to clear his throat. "I had an, apparent, fever. My work demanded that I be sent to this facility." Those black eyes looked pointedly at her. "I imagine something similar happened to you?"

Bulma nodded, finishing off her eggs thoughtfully. "I feel fine, though. No other sign besides a somewhat high fever."

A phone began ringing from inside his room, the factory set trill sounding irately through the air. She watched as the stranger before her - Vegeta, right? - sighed and stood with his dishes. He gave a brief nod, looking down before making eye contact with her again. "Duty awaits," he grumped, that voice laced with sarcasm.

She couldn't help but chuckle again. "Thank you for breakfast, then. I'm happy to wash the dishes and make something in return for dinner tonight...if you want anything?"

"Hmph. Fine. Any distractions I need to know about?"

Her shoulders lifted into a nonchalant shrug. "I'm as quiet as a mouse."

Vegeta groaned to himself, running his fingers roughly through his hair as he leaned back in the chair. Slowly a few pops were felt and heard from his spine, relieving some of the tension but not in the right places. The numbers on the screen in front of him swam across his eyes. Meanwhile, particularly loud disco could be heard through the wall next to him.

_Quiet as a mouse, my ass..._

Vegeta sighed to himself, rubbing his eyes. He didn't know what to make of his neighbor. Witty, friendly, slightly combative...and, in this case, a blatant liar. She was attractive, though, in an exotic way. He'd not run across many blue-haired women in his time so she stood out in his mind. But the irritation he was currently feeling was starting to fade any thoughts of wanting...anything else.

_Ping_

Two more emailed report assignments lit up his inbox. Vegeta groaned. The music pounded next door.

An angry growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he stood, abruptly, and stormed outside. There was barely a jump from his balcony to hers; Vegeta easily climbed over without risk of falling below. From his standpoint outside, the curtains were mostly drawn btu there was enough space that if she looked over he'd be seen. He stormed up to the glass door and slammed his fist roughly against the frame.

Nothing. The music continued playing.

Vegeta growled, pounding again. "Woman!"

Nothing.

Hand over his brow, he did his best to peer through the crack in the fabric. Whatever she's doing had better be-

His eyes widened.

He gulped.

The woman - Bulma? - was clad in a pair of black shorts and a grey sports bra, bouncing and staring at the TV on the opposite wall of Vegeta. Some kind of tape played with an afroed man in glittery gym clothes stepping and dancing with a group of people. In perfect sync, she followed the steps but with more intensity. Her legs jumped higher, making the thickness of her thighs jiggle as gravity brought her back down. A pair of 20-lb weights were grasped in her hands as she turned and moved with the instructor gracefully. The turn, though, exposed the creaminess of her stomach - rounded slightly, like a healthy woman - and the side of her large breasts. Beads of sweat dripped down her neck and into her cleavage, leaving her skin glistening as it flushed with exertion. 

Yet, that face. Those cheeks flushed hot. Her bright blue eyes focused hard on the television screen. The plumpness of her lips was parted, taking in quick controlled breaths to match her movements. 

Vegeta could feel his own face flushing as he imagined her looking like this during other...activities. 

Suddenly, he became very aware that he was standing on a balcony. In a public area of town. With people walking below who could spy him being a peeping-Tom at any point. He cleared his throat uncomfortably as he made his way back over to his balcony and through the glass doors. The music continued to bump through the wall. 

_I guess headphones can do. For now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank you to my readers, followers, and Patreon Blues and Princes:
> 
> Candela Ficarrotta, GreyMochila, Bee, Mrs. Yuuwaku, Rasilina, AutumnToxicity, and Loreal Davis
> 
> I love you all ❤️
> 
> Be sure to follow me on Twitter @MelodiesVegebul for updates, behind the scenes stuff, and mini-smuts.


	5. Tensions Rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Double feature for you today! Hope you enjoy ❤️
> 
> DBZ and the music inspiring each chapter do not belong to me. Please support to official releases of these products.
> 
> Artist and Song: You Make Me Sick by P!nk

Bulma sighed the medic, clad in white hazmat gear and a face shield, leaned down with a gloved hand to offer a thermometer. “You know, my father specifically donated the head thermometers to all medical facilities because they’re 97% more accurate than these glass ones, right?” she complained as it was inserted under her tongue.

“Please don’t speak, Miss Briefs. It’ll be done shortly.”

They received an eye roll back as Bulma held out her arm for the blood pressure cuff. For the past two weeks, she could expect these medics in their overly-done suits at least every two to three days. Despite her cooperation with the survey questions and insisting she was in prime health condition, the words that fell from her tongue went in one ear and out the other. And she sure as hell hated being ignored.

That same gloved hand pulled the thermometer away clinically, checking the scale. After a moment, some scribbles were heard against the stack of papers on their clipboard, and a final pen snap was heard. “Thank you, Miss Briefs,” the unnamed attendant stated as they headed towards the door.

“Hey, wait a minute!” she called, clambering after them from the couch. “Because I’m totally fine, and you can’t leave me here to starve, can I go to the store to get some more food? Or will someone bring me up some more tea?”

A throaty chuckle was heard from behind the face shield. “You and the other residents are allowed to go out for one-hour blocks at a time as long as you wear the masks and gloves provided to you upon admission. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” They nodded their head and closed the door behind them with a click.

Bulma’s eyes lit up with excitement.

_I get to go outside!_

_Knock knock knock_

He frowned, looking up from his spot on the bed at the hallway door. Vegeta hadn’t moved from the foot of the bed - where he was currently plopped down face-first - since his twelve-hour shift ended. His eyes flicked to the alarm clock beside him; 7:30 pm.

_Who could that be at this hour? And HERE of all places?_

Imagine his surprise, then, when he opened the door to a bubbly, blue-haired woman. The bright-eyed of his neighbor stared at him, excited from behind her face mask. Blue side out, he noticed. “Aren’t you supposed to be quarantined?” he asked suspiciously.

That earned a light-hearted giggle from his neighbor. “Well, duh, silly! But I got the all-clear to go to the store to grab stuff. And, since you like eating me out of house and home, I figured you would want to come with.” She seemed all set to go in her white tank top and brown khakis, a pair of hot pink latex gloves decorating her hands.

Actually, quite the opposite. Vegeta was more than content to lay back on his bed and go to sleep. Food didn’t even sound appetizing; with the ridiculously long mandatory shifts, all want for taking care of himself dissipated. And he told her in those exact words.

“Aww, come on, Vegeta!” she whined. Those pink hands propped themselves on her ample hips as she pouted. “How am I supposed to be an awesome and beautiful neighbor when I don’t know exactly what kinds of foods my quarantine partner likes?”

A small smirk couldn’t help but quirk up at that. “Who said we were quarantine partners?”

With a distinct hair flip and a wink, Bulma answered flirtatiously, “I did, of course! And the last I checked you like it, Mr. Grump. Now, I’ll wait out here while you get ready. But hurry up; the stores close soon.” She pulled the doorknob out of Vegeta’s hand, a smile wrinkling the corners of her eyes, and closed the door.

He shook his head, staring at the door for a moment. The audacity of this feisty female... He couldn’t lie to himself; he did like it. Vegeta had never been one for female attention, but this one was...acceptable.

His reflection caught his peripheral in the hall mirror. Frowning, he looked over himself: Black t-shirt, grey sweats, and no socks.

“Tch.”

_It’ll have to do._

Quickly slipping on a pair of white gloves, a mask - blue filter, out - and a pair of sneakers, he headed for the door.

_This was a horrible idea! Why did you ever agree to this?!_

“Hey, Vegeta? Could you help me reach the top again? Pretty please?” a hauntingly sweet voice asked.

He growled, “I’m the same height as you.”

“Oh, stop acting like you can’t lift me! What good are those muscles for anyway?”

He gave her a knowing look, more than enjoying the blush that began to spread across her cheeks as Bulma huffed and began storming away. Her basket shook violently as she searched for an attendant.

It had been like this the entire trip. At first, Vegeta felt incredibly awkward next to the blue-nette. Ever seen he’d seen her through the window during their first week in quarantine, he’d avoiding taking active notice of her body. Or how attractive she was, in general. But as they began to walk down the busy streets of South City, continuing the oddly-comfortable banter, they seemed to fall in when they talked. His walls began to crumble. Now, Vegeta did notice quite plainly how casually sexy the woman was...and many thoughts of ways he wanted to lift that curvaceous frame and pin it against any surface near him began flowing through his mind.

Bulma had noticed it, too. The ease at which her normally-stoic shopping buddy began to flirt. And how quickly and wittily he teased her.

_But two can play at that game..._

With all of the stockers seeming to have evaporated from that part of the store along with any other customers, she decided to kick things up a notch. “So,” she asked casually as she returned to Vegeta’s side. Her basket, filled with various meats and seafood products, swung in her clasped hands. “What is a hunk like you doing without a girlfriend?”

A bright red blush answered her before words even left his mouth. He cleared his throat. “I find very little time for female companionship. Or patience.” Most women would prefer to Vegeta as talking to a brick wall.

One of her hands broke free of the basket handle to brush the shelves as she pretended to look at the items displayed. “That’s a shame. I bet you’re a great lay.”

She smiled secretly to herself as he sputtered beside her. “Do you have to be so vulgar, woman?”

“Hmm...only when I mean it.” Bulma gave him a wink. Then, her body rounded the end cap to move up the next aisle.

For a moment, Vegeta couldn’t help but be stunned. He rarely heard statements like that about anyone, let alone himself. He wasn’t a sexual creature by nature. Yet, it seemed this temptress enjoyed toying with him. A chuckle sounded quietly in the back of his throat; _two can play at that game, then._

The next time Bulma reached up on a shelf, he came up right behind her. He heard her let out a tiny gasp as he ground his hips into her ass, placing a hand firmly on the roundness there. Vegeta made sure she could feel him, the hardness that had set in since she first started teasing him, before grabbing the bottle she was initially reaching for and handed it to her.

The movement was so quick that to the passerby, he was just helping her achieve the item. But Bulma knew better, especially when in that brief moment he whispered in her ear, “You are more than welcome to find out, Bulma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank you to my readers, followers, and Patreon Blues and Princes:
> 
> Candela Ficarrotta, GreyMochila, Bee, Mrs. Yuuwaku, Rasilina, AutumnToxicity, and Loreal Davis
> 
> I love you all ❤️
> 
> Be sure to follow me on Twitter @MelodiesVegebul for updates, behind the scenes stuff, and mini-smuts.


	6. Don't Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Smut incoming! Let’s do this 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼  
> DBZ and the music inspiring each chapter do not belong to me. Please support to official releases of these products.
> 
> Artist and Song: Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen

“So...it was that bad of a day?” Vegeta looked across at the woman in front of him. Tonight it was his turn to cook - steak and lobster tails were his choice - but the strangely fancy meal paired with the clothes she had worn. A long red gown, cut to emphasize the heft of her breasts and the curves of her hips. Her hair had been parted to the side, framing those beautiful eyes and the face that held minimal makeup. She didn’t need it, after all. But the gray, faded stains of running mascara that collected in the corners told him she had dolled up.

A tight clenching in the pit of Vegeta’s stomach made him feel nauseous. His mind replayed the conversation he’d accidentally heard earlier over and over again. Anger and embarrassment coursed through him, and, he hoped, his neighbor couldn’t tell...

_“I didn’t want to do this in the first place, Yamcha. You know I’m quarantined. And I was looking forward to a...nice dinner for myself. Why do you need to see me?” She has propped herself against the door separating their rooms, toying with a bracelet as her ex chattered away on the other line. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about him anymore; if anything, she cared too much. But the feeling of wondering if her partner was cheating during his away games, and then seeing it confirmed on the late-night news, ruined things for her._

_Still, Yamcha chattered away, begging to come to talk things over for the hundredth time. To take her to dinner and hash things out._

_She gave a tired sigh. “Fine. Be here in an hour. But I’m only coming to settle things finally. We’re not getting back together, Yamcha. I’m done with games.”_

_An enthusiastic voice in the receiver sounded back as she closed the flip phone and rested her head back. A small part of herself wondered if the guy on the other side of the door heard everything and if he’d care enough about the plans she made. They were just flirting, after all. Maybe he didn’t have any interest in her; after all, he said he wasn’t one for relationships._

_Nevertheless, Vegeta did hear, just like he heard her crying over two hours later when there hadn’t been a knock on her door._

The woman in front of him gave a weak smile, sipping a glass of wine instead of answering. He could understand that. Sometimes it was easier to keep things in silence than try and talk it out. Taking the cue, Vegeta quietly cracked open the tail and tucked into the meal with an odd finesse until she finally spoke.

With a sigh, he heard her whisper, “Why does it suck this bad when I was going to say ‘goodbye’ anyway?” Unshed tears sparkled at him. Her hand absentmindedly swirled the glass it held.

He shrugged, looking at his plate. “I imagine because you don’t have the closure you wanted. Things didn’t play out how you thought they would in your head. And that’s disappointing, to say the least.”

She pondered that thought as Bulma took another drink. The alcohol buzzed through her system, leaving her slightly swaying but otherwise statuesque.

The black eyes across from her watched her casually as he continued eating. “I, for one, wouldn’t be able to leave a woman like you waiting for this long.”

A chuckle was finally earned from that. “You’re just saying that because you want to bang me.” Suddenly, he felt pinned in place by her gaze. “Don’t lie.”

No. That wasn’t the only reason. But it was a good one. Instead of dignifying her with an answer, though, Vegeta wiped his mouth and took a sip from the glass in front of him. Bourbon, smooth and hearty, slid down his throat as he waited for her to speak again.

A heat appeared in Bulma’s eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol and the recent rejection she’d be served, or the fancy meal a stranger made for her and the advice he gave just because he could, but something clicked. She felt bolder than she usually was. And very tired of games. “Why do you want me?” she asked bluntly.

A flush appeared on the man’s cheeks. “You’re unique. Intellectual. Witty. Caring-“

“No,” she cut him off, leaning forward. Her arms pushed her breasts together, lengthening the cleavage there. Vegeta’s eyes widened. “Why do you want me?”

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly too dry. But he looked her in the eye, still, as he answered, “Because I...have thought of what it’d be like.”

“To touch me?”

“Hmm.”

She stood, the length of her gown brushing the floor gently. Within a few moments, she’d moved her plates to the chair and sat on the table, knees apart. The creaminess of her calves peeked through the fabric as she licked her lips, taunting him. Even now, she was just a few feet away from his fingertips. It felt like an ocean.

“I’m probably going to regret this tomorrow...but right now I don’t care,” she said curtly, staring him down. Those legs widened until he could almost see her core, a small flicker of green cloth blocking his view. Vegeta’s breath caught.

_Holy hell, this is happening..._

“I want you to tell me what you want to do to me,” she demanded in a husky toned, those fingers trailing the inner of her thigh. “And I want you to see me cum.”

He couldn’t help but swallow again. The night air was fresh, the sound of pedestrians and cars echoed from the floors below. Across the street, a few lit windows could be seen from people in other hotels. A nervousness at being seen and excitement at the prospect of it sat like a lump in Vegeta’s throat. This woman was dangerous in the way she looked at him, wanted him to do things.

And he was all for it.

Quickly, he brought his chair around to the front of the table, shortening the distance between them even further. He sat and looked at the beauty in front of him. Blood rushed to his cock already at the thoughts running through his mind. His hands clenched and unclenched.

One hand of slender fingers began tracing her collarbone as she stared at him. “Tell me...”

He observed the movement. “I want to taste your skin.”

“Mmm, right here?” she asked, tracing her neck.

“No. Between your breasts.”

She moaned softly and let her fingers move down to where he said. He was watched as she cupped her breasts and how they overflowed from her hands. Her dress was loosened, somehow, and the fabric started to fall until her nipples were barely covered.

He hissed in a breath, drinking in sight. “I want to bury my face between them.”

That earned another moan. She purposefully squeezed them together, making the gown fall further down but not far enough. Those devilish fingers began rubbing and tweaking her nipples through the dress, pulling more moans from her. “Mmm, that sounds so good,” she breathed out, cheeks flushing. “They’re so sensitive, you know? And they ache when I feel like this.”

Oh, what he’d give to lick and kiss the ache away right now.

She bit her lip, watching him watch her. “I want to see you.”

Vegeta, eyes heated and sporting a raging hard-on, pulled off his shirt slowly. The rippling muscles of his chest appeared, his caramelized skin glistening in the dim light that bounced up at them from the streets below.

She gasped jaw-droppingly. Her hands squeezed those massive breasts harder. “Fuck, you’re ripped.”

He chuckled, still focused on her movements.

“Tell me more...”

He watched as she brought her hands to her thighs, hiking up the dress even further. “I want to know how you feel underneath me.”

Her eyes closed slightly as she brought her fingers to her core. A shiver ran through her.

“I want to know how it feels to hear you underneath screaming my name as I pound you.”

Another shiver followed by a giggle as the woman began rubbing herself, through the panties, in slow circles. “Mmm, you know what I want?”

He watched her waiting.

Those eyes locked with his. “I want you to pin me against this table and cum on every inch of my skin. Just fuck my tits until there was nothing but white covering my skin. And fill my pussy and ass with your hot sperm until I’m nothing but a cum slut that needs to be hosed off.”

Now it was time for his mouth to hang open in surprise. Vegeta felt his face heat at hearing the vulgarity that just flowed out of the woman in front of him but, fuck if that wasn’t an invitation for more. His hand squeezed the hard-on through his pants, needing to give some kind of relief. Bulma noticed.

“I want to see,” she said, those eyes demanding more from him.

He was hopeless to refuse. Vegeta felt himself unzip his pants and pull his throbbing member out, letting out a sigh of relief at the lessened restriction. The woman licked her lips, eyeing his cock hungrily.

_Fuck, if she licked me once right now, I’d be done for._

He moaned and began pumping himself slowly, watching the temptress on the other balcony.

Bulma kept watching, hungrily, as she rubbed herself faster. Little moans escaped her ruby lips. It drove him nuts.

“Fuck, I want to feeeel you,” she moaned, panting.

His shoulders heaved as his hand moved faster, needing more friction. He looked dead in Bulma’s eyes, his own confidence growing as she met him stroke for stroke. “You want me to bend you over that table and fuck you, right?”

She shivered moaning. “Oh, yes...”

“You want me to fuck that tight, little pussy until your raw, huh?”

Bulma nodded enthusiastically, hair bobbing around her face. Her fingers yanked her panties to the side, revealing a thin patch of blue hair and the prettiest olive-toned pussy he’d ever seen. Her lips were dripping with arousal, and it only intensified when she dipped a finger in, moaning, and began rubbing her wetness on her clit.

Vegeta shuddered, a heat running down his spine and over his skin. Somehow in his daze, he ended up on his knees at the end of his balcony. He didn’t know-how. All he kept thinking over and over was... “Kami, I want to bury my face between your legs right now.”

Her legs quivered as the pleasure built. “Oh, please do,” she begged. “It’s been so long since someone’s done that.”

_What?_

His mind cleared a little, anger flashing through his eyes. _Did that asshole never go down on her?_ Honestly, that was one of Vegeta’s favorite activities when he had been with a woman. A hand gripped the bar dangerously as he continued to pump his cock furiously. “When this is over, I am going to pin you down and eat that delicious-looking pussy until you beg me to stop. I’m going to lick that clit until you can’t stand it anymore. And then I’m going to ram my cock - ngh! - in you until you can hardly walk the next day.”

Bulma trembled, moaning loudly as his words sent waves pleasure though her. Just the thought of his words, imagining the feel of him inside her... “Fuuuuck, I’m so close, Vegeta...”

He shuddered, arms trembled. Oh, the sound of her voice... “Say that again,” he demanded.

“Mmm, Vegeta,” she whimpered, moving faster.

“Ngh...a-again...”

A high-pitched moan escaped her lips. “Pleeeease, Vegeta, cum with me!“

He could feel her. Surrounding his cock instead of his hand. Those drenched, tight walls clamping down on him hard as she orgasmed around him. His eyes rolled back briefly, arms straining. “Oh, shiiiit...”

She gasped loudly and then let out a low moan, her orgasm ripping through her violently. At the same time, Vegeta yelped and came in hot spurts on the balcony floor. Breathing heavily, he shuddered as the high rolled through his body and left him feeling sweaty. As his eyes opened again, he saw the same look of hungry satisfaction on Bulma’s face that he imagined was on his. That felt good - SO good.

_But I want more..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank you to my readers, followers, and Patreon Blues and Princes:
> 
> Candela Ficarrotta, GreyMochila, Bee, Mrs. Yuuwaku, Rasilina, AutumnToxicity, and Loreal Davis
> 
> I love you all ❤️
> 
> Be sure to follow me on Twitter @MelodiesVegebul for updates, behind the scenes stuff, and mini-smuts.


	7. Detention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: What’s a little Vegebul without some angst, huh? Enjoy ❤️  
> DBZ and the music inspiring each chapter do not belong to me. Please support to official releases of these products.
> 
> Artist: Melanie Martinez

_Knock_

_..._

_Knock knock_

_..._

Bulma stirred in her bed, a heavy pulsing sitting on her eyes. She moaned, the continual knocking on the door intensifying the drowsiness and headache building in her temples. “Ngh...go awaaaay!” she moaned, rolling over into the pillows.

_..._

_Knock knock knock_

With a huff, she bounded out of bed and headed for the door. A quick glance in the mirror had her vaguely register she was still wearing the dress from last night and her hair was standing in all directions. But there was very little care for appearances right now. She just wanted SLEEP.

“What the f-“

“Hey, Bulma!” Yamcha shouted happily before taking in her appearance with wide eyes. “Why’re you’re all dressed up? It’s only 9 a.m.”

 _Wait, Yamcha?_ Bulma shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. “What the hell are you doing here?”

An incessant knocking followed by the woman screeching pulled a groaning Vegeta out of his slumber. At first, memories of the evening before filtered into his mind - bringing a smile to his face - and then he heard talking.

“- supposed to meet last night, Yamcha. Why would I want to see you now?” she spat irately through the wall.

An awkward laugh could be heard. “Well, I got kind of distracted last night. But I bet you looked good! You’re a little disheveled right now but I bet you could clean up real quick before we go.”

“What?!” she screamed angrily. “How- grr...” Bulma gave a sigh, pausing for a moment. “I told you all I wanted was to say ‘goodbye’ last night. And you screwed that up by standing me up. So, goodbye Yamcha.”

The door sounded like it was closing but caught on something at the last second. “Please, Bulma!” he pleaded. “Let me explain! I just want to work things out.”

That was all Vegeta could stand to hear at that point. He gave a growl before climbing out of bed and storming into the bathroom.

_What did it matter if she decided to hear him out or not? It wasn’t his business..._

A slam was heard through the wall, stealing both of their attentions for a moment. Bulma’s eyes widened in recognition - _Vegeta heard everything..._ \- as she looked back at her unwelcome guest. He’d blocked her from trying to close the door and was now trying to shoulder his way in. Eyes narrowing into angry slits, Bulma growled, “Look, it’s over Yamcha. I’m done with the back-and-fifth. We were always better friends than we were as a couple. Can’t you just go with your dignity and leave it at that?”

He opened and closed his mouth for a moment, looking away. Bulma could understand it; they’d known each other since they were teenagers. And, honestly, they’d been drifting apart for years. But some things you just have to let die.

By the time Vegeta came out of the shower, a fresh pair of shorts on his hips and a towel around his shoulders, he could no longer hear anything next door. It wasn’t until he heard the small clatter of dishes that he confirmed Bulma to still even be there.

The shower didn’t help in the slightest for a distraction. It just seemed to heighten his embarrassment at the evening before’s events. And his growing irritation at the woman on the other side of the wall.

_Why did he have to come here?_

_And why did she even open the damn door?_

A quiet knock could be heard on the door next to him. “Vegeta?” she asked quietly, leaning against the wood. “You okay?”

He glared at the wood, fighting the conflicting feelings within himself. On the one hand, she didn’t seem too happy to find her ex-whatever at the door this morning. On the other, she still answered to talk to him. He didn’t know what happened while he was in the shower; he purposely made sure he wouldn’t under the high-pressure stream. And he didn’t quite feel like answers right now.

So, instead of answering, he made his way to the computer to turn on the thin client.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank you to my readers, followers, and Patreon Blues and Princes:
> 
> Candela Ficarrotta, GreyMochila, Bee, Mrs. Yuuwaku, Rasilina, AutumnToxicity, and Loreal Davis
> 
> I love you all ❤️
> 
> Be sure to follow me on Twitter @MelodiesVegebul for updates, behind the scenes stuff, and mini-smuts.


	8. Hanging By A Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Enjoy my lovelies! ❤️  
> DBZ and the music inspiring each chapter do not belong to me. Please support to official releases of these products.
> 
> Artist: Lifehouse

Her hands grasped a cup of cold pomegranate green tea as the wind nudged her hair. The table and chairs had been reset to their original spaces days ago when she’d come out with two plates of hot breakfast and left with one gone cold.

If one were to look through the doorway into the room, all of her belongings would be seen packed away into their bags. The bed was made. The bathroom picked up. And a missing pink cup still hadn’t joined the rest of her collection.

It was just yesterday when the medics came around again, verified her vitals, and told Bulma that within the next day or so, she could go home. Home. Back to work under less strict quarantine conditions but still not able to leave the property. Back to deadlines and having to work to guarantee continual pay. Back to...

Her eyes flicked to her right.

The balcony next to her was empty, the door closed and most likely locked. Like it had been for the past few days. Ever since their...encounter on the balcony, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him. Her mind was filled with a constant stream of racing thoughts. She thought he was into whatever their relationship had become just as much as she was. The flirting and the prominent words were there. So why did he shut her out?

She sighed and headed back into the room—a newfound determination settling in her gut.

_I’m sick of this bullshit._

Though she couldn’t see from this angle, Vegeta was leaning against the sliding door. His black eyes, heavy-lidded from lack of decent sleep and burnout, watched as she went back to her hotel room. But he was there. He was battling with himself. Wanting to go out...and his pride refusing to take the first step.

A part of himself felt like he overreacted with her ex. She was very clear that she didn’t want anything to do with him. And, if he was honest with himself, Bulma was pretty angry he had shown up unannounced in the first place.

_So why do I feel this way?_

Vegeta didn’t care for feeling jealous of anyone. It left him anxiously doing push-ups and pacing the room at 3 a.m. The ramblings of his mind sent him over the edge into a bottomless pit of self-loathing. Because she had wanted him, _needed_ him, and he wanted it just as much.

More than that, he felt like he...liked her. Liked her. In the few short weeks they’d known each other, shared meals tables apart out of necessity, he felt like he’d grown to know many sides of the woman. And he wanted to know more. That was a rarity in and of itself. But now-

_Click_

_Squeeeek_

_..._

_Thump_

His front door rattled for a moment, the person on the other side turning the handle roughly before letting go.

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. But then, there was a pounding on the adjoining door to Bulma’s suite. “Vegeta!” she screeched. “You’re going to fucking talk to me, and you’re not leaving until you do.”

Understanding rushed through him, and he couldn’t help but grin. Casually, he walked up to the partitioned door and leaned against it. “Did you really barricade me in here because I didn’t have breakfast with you? I didn’t think you were that clingy.”

“Clingy?! I’ve left you alone all week, and you call me clingy?” The shrillness of her voice, even though the door, made his ears hurt. “If anything, you didn’t have the balls enough to tell me what your problem was.”

“I assure you my balls have nothing to do with this. It was...your male visitor.” As much as he wanted to tease her, Vegeta knew she deserved more straight-forward answers, which was harder than it seemed.

She was quiet a moment before asking flabbergasted, “Really? All of this over me telling Yamcha to get lost?”

He didn’t bother dignifying that was a response, too wrapped up in his embarrassment to find words.

She gasped on the other side of the frame. “No...you thought I was going to get back with him, didn’t you?”

“You ask a lot of questions you know the answer to,” he quipped, his wounded ego showing.

There was silence for a moment, but he could hear the wheels in that complicated mind turn. He knew with any person his overreaction would not go overlooked. It would come off possessive, especially when he hardly spent time with her without walls in between.

But, instead, he heard her say, “Open the door, Vegeta.”

Eyes widened in recognition of her words. He gulped. But he watched himself, almost from a third-person view, unlock the latch and open the doors.

And there she was...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank you to my readers, followers, and Patreon Blues and Princes:
> 
> Candela Ficarrotta, GreyMochila, Bee, Mrs. Yuuwaku, Rasilina, AutumnToxicity, and Loreal Davis
> 
> I love you all ❤️
> 
> Be sure to follow me on Twitter @MelodiesVegebul for updates, behind the scenes stuff, and mini-smuts.


	9. What Happens Down Below

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It's done 😭 holy crap! SMUT incoming (literally 99% of the chapter) so enjoy!
> 
> We have a beautifully hot commission from @amartbee for this chapter and have got TWO songs for this chapter:  
> Do Not Disturb by Halestorm  
> Play Date by Melanie Martinez
> 
> DBZ and the music inspiring each chapter do not belong to me. Please support to official releases of these products.  
> Enjoy! xoxo

There he was, right in front of her. A black tank top and jeans hugged that built frame, those equally dark eyes taking her in with a bewildered gaze. Bulma felt a tightness in her chest as the distance closed between them, both only stopping until they were less than a few inches apart.

She licked the dryness away from her lips.

His eyes flickered to watch the movement.

Quietly, she said, “See? It wasn’t that hard.”

He chuckled softly, a deadly half smirk appearing on his face. But otherwise, he said nothing.

Bulma couldn’t help but appreciate the width of his shoulders, the way each set of muscle flexed under his skin. Her mind flashed back to seeing him on his knees just a few days ago, vigorously pumping at his surprisingly large member with a borderline-desperate look in his eyes. She wanted to see more, wanted to see that look again. Yet her eyes flickered back up to his instead.

Vegeta didn’t speak, letting himself move on autopilot before he could stop himself. Those plump lips begged for his mouth, and he was happy to oblige. A smooth, swift movement he pulled her close and kissed her.

A gasp followed by a soft moan vibrated against his lips as she relaxed, wrapping her arms around his neck. For once, he was thankful for his short stature. He was at perfect level to pull her in and press that delicious body aganist his completely. Vegeta groaned softly; _fuck, she felt perfect..._

Their lips grew more heated as the kiss lengthened, hardly coming up for gasping breaths. When the distance became too much, Bulma jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist. He moaned as he caught her and ground his hips into hers.

She gasped at the newfound friction between her legs.

His body moved to pin her against the now-closer balcony door, eager to find some kind of stable surface to devour her on.

Bulma’s lips let a soft moan escape as his tongue and teeth began to travel down her neck.

Their hands ripped at each other’s clothing, begging for the contact they had so desperately wanted all of this time. Her shoulders shrugged out of the button up she’d thrown on as his teeth snapped open the front claps of her bra. Vegeta let out a whine when he felt those manicured fingers yank apart the waistband of his jeans to firmly hold his briefs-covered cock.

“I need you. Now.” She panted heavily, those full breasts bouncing from the strain. “I can’t wait any longer.”

A groan like melting chocolate sent shivers down her spine in answer. Hastily, he slammed his lips back into hers. Large hands hurriedly and messily pushed down his pants and boxer-briefs to the floor. He jostled the two of them as his feet kicked the grounded clothes out of the way, making Bulma break into soft giggles.

Those black eyes looked at her in amusement, a dark heat stirring in their depths. “Laughing at me?”

“Mmm maybe,” she teased, nibbling on his bottom lip. “What are you gonna do about it?”

A wicked grin said, “Oh, I’ll show you.” Then, suddenly, he was all the way inside of her.

Bulma gasped at the sudden intrusion, legs stiffening.

Vegeta hissed, fingers tightening involuntarily around her skin, leaving bruises.

She was unbelievably wet, arousal dripping down her legs to the floor between them. The feeling absorbed his ever-hardening member as those fluttering walls clamped down on him. “Damn, you’re tight,” he hissed, trying to control his breathing. A thin layer of sweat already began to build on his shoulders along with the pressure in his gut. And he hadn’t even started _moving_ yet.

The cerulean strands of her hair bounced as she shook her head. Mouth agape, eyes half-lidded, she looked delectable to him. “Uh uh. You’re beyond huge...”

He chuckled darkly, rocking his hips slowly. That earned another gasp from the woman in Vegeta’s arms. Gradually, he watched as her limbs went limp and her head lulled against the glass behind her. The pace was slow and even, his dick barely grazing that sweet spot deep inside of her with each pump. He was able to regain his senses - just barely - as his eyes watched her lose all sense.

Those breasts with hardened, dark nipples rubbed against his scared flesh.

Quiet, pleading moans escaped those kiss-bitten lips.

Her eyes, blue as the skies outside their little world, were in a daze as they alternated between rolling to the back of her skull and keeping focus on him.

It was too beautiful not to watch. Vegeta grasped an even tighter hold on to her and kept pace. Low grunts and moans left his own lips; he would have been embarrassed otherwise - _what kind of man moans?_ \- if he hasn’t noticed how much she reacted to it. It was like listening to him heightened her pleasure, made her body constrict around him even more.

Too soon, he felt her core turn into a vice grip. Her fingers began slipping along the scars of his chest. “Please...I-I’m,” she begged quietly, her tone growing in pitch.

Vegeta growled, hips pumping a little harder.

_I want to see it..._

_I need to see it..._

She shook and fell apart against his body, letting out a loud moan as she came. It was a low, satisfying sound that tumbled through her whole body and left him feeling a burst of wetness against his pelvis. The rhythm of his thrusts slowed again, not stopping but evening out enough for her to catch her breath.

Those eyes stared into his soul, heavy with satisfaction and lust. A teasing grin spread across her face. “Mmm, I want more,” she moaned.

He licked his lips. “Oh, really?” his voice asked casually, as if he still wasn’t slowly fucking this woman in broad daylight.

“Mmm, I think the exact words that ran through my mind just now were ‘I want that yummy cock to make me cum again’”. Bulma’s voice was nonchalant but had gained a naughty undertone. She bit her lip and ran her nails lightly down his chest. “Fuck, the view from here is so sexy...”

What was it about this woman that made him want to laugh and ravish her at the same time? Vegeta would happily admit how much he adored it.

_But first..._

“Well,” he started. “If you really want to cum again...” His hips stopped quickly, pulling out of her core. They both moaned and gasped at the loss; his words came out breathier than before, “Then bend over.”

With a dirty smile, Bulma did as she was asked. She turned around and placed her hands on the floor, juicy ass straight up into the air. “You’re lucky I’m flexible,” she quipped.

_Oh, I know..._ Vegeta groaned, taking in the sight of that beautiful behind on display for him. Those plump lips glistening with a combination of their juices. Before he lost his mind, he positioned his cock at her entrance again and plunged inside.

Bulma moaned loudly, her body quivering at the new angle. _Fuck, he’s right on my g-spot!_

He panted louder now, throwing all call to the wind and began pumping inside of her fast and hard.

She screamed, breasts bouncing from the animalistic intensity of his thrusts.

His fingers left more bruises on her hips and ass, hips slamming into hers with wild abandon.

Her legs began to quiver, toes losing grip. “My...legs...” she panted between moans, finding difficulty speaking.

She heard a growl from behind her, triggering another rush of arousal threw her. “Are your...hands planted?” he asked huskily.

“Uh huh.”

“Good. Just...trust me... I - ngh - won’t...drop you...”

Her legs were suddenly hiked up, scaring Bulma for a moment but only until Vegeta began pounding inside of her again. She let out another pleasure-filled scream, face flushing and he rammed his cock in and out of her violently.

Her body trembled tremendously.

His grunts grew in volume, growing into loud moans as his orgasm drew close.

Bulma shivered, electric waves rocking through her body.

“Ngh...Kami...fuck...”

“Shit, Vegeta...I-I’m gonna cum again...”

He shivered hard. _It’s too much!_

Her arms went limp, but his were there to make sure she didn’t hit the ground without losing pace.

When her orgasm hit, it sent a tsunami of emotion through her. Bulma’s eyes watered, dropping salty tears to the carpet below. She screamed a quivering tone, losing all feeling in her limbs as the pleasure took over. Somehow, she registered the first incredibly sexy sound of Vegeta groaning and felt hot spurts of his seed drip down her legs. Still, he didn’t loosen his grip on her. In fact, he bent down on woobly legs and carried to the bed.

Exhausted but not nearly sexually spent, the bluenette curled up in the man’s side. Both tried to catch their breath with smiling faces and barely-open eyelids.

Outside, the usually busy streets were more crowded than usual. No had noticed the couple fucking in plain view from the floors above. Instead, bodies of citizens of different species - mostly feline and canine - growled and screamed at barricading officers.

Fists were launched.

Tear gas sprayed into innocent eyes.

Screams echoed through the air.

But in their quarantined room, blocked off from the outside world, Vegeta and Bulma were none the wiser. Instead, they just continued with what was long overdue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for joining me on this COVID-19 journey! I hope you’re all staying safe and healthy out there in the world. Upcoming, we’ve got some Patreon exclusive one-shots and ‘In The Wings’ chapters heading your way.
> 
> A very special thank you to my readers, followers, and Patreon Blues and Princes:  
> Candela Ficarrotta, GreyMochila, Bee, Mrs. Yuuwaku, Rasilina, AutumnToxicity, Loreal Davis, and Coli Lynch
> 
> I love you all ❤️
> 
> Be sure to follow me on Twitter @MelodiesVegebul for updates, behind the scenes stuff, and mini-smuts.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Follow me on Twitter @MelodiesVegebul


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